A Night At The Museum
by The Queen Of Mischief
Summary: Nothing to do with the movie. Heavily implied fluff, potential oneshot unless reviews persuade me to continue. Hermione and Blaise get stuck in the museum for a night. Enemies enter the museum, friends leave it. R&R! Now updated!
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Hermione carefully replaced the sword in its case. After Hogwarts, she had chosen to work in the Muggle world and had gotten a job as a professor at the surprisingly young age of twenty-five.

She was writing a book about that particularly old sword which was believed to have come from Arthurian times and she had spent many a night at the museum where it resided to study it. So far she had found nothing special about it. This just increased her curiosity to find out who's it was and exactly when it had come from.

The museum had closed down and locked long ago and she had the key to it so she would have to let herself out and then lock it it before she left.

Oh, crap. The keys. They were in the room with all the light switches and things. She had gone there to turn on the lights to the room where she was working and now it had been locked up with her keys inside.

She would have to spend the night here.

Shit.

She turned around to leave the room when she heard footsteps. Oh, Merlin. She hated to admit it, but she was scared. What if it was one of those madmen with pickaxes and she would have to spend the whole night running around hiding behind exhibits so he wouldn't find her and kill her.

Heaven's above, Granger, are you stupid? No one's going to come at you with a pickaxe. At least, that's what she tried to tell herself.

The footsteps grew closer. She whimpered. You are such a coward, she thought.

"Hello?" she asked. "Who's there?"

"Ah, Granger," said a cool voice. A figure appeared. "What a pleasant surprise."

"Zabini? Blaise Zabini?"

"The one and only," the figure bowed dramatically. "Bet you thought I was a madman with a pickaxe come to kill you." He said.

"No I didn't." she lied indignantly.

"Sure."

"Shut up."

"So aren't you going to ask me why I'm here?"

"No."

"Too bad. I'm a professor who got transferred here on a sabbatical from London to write about a scroll. Well, many scrolls. I'm a medievalist. And you?"

"Same." She muttered angrily.

"My keys got locked in the lighting room."

"Good for you." Internally she was thinking, 'Wow, how coincidental,' in a non-sarcastic way. "So what're we going to do?" she asked sincerely after a moment.

"We?"

"Well, we have to stick together. The museum's huge and in the dark we could get lost." She said.

"Okay, whatever you say, Gran-Hermione."

"Thank you." She said, meaning for calling her by her name.

"But can't we just apparate out? Or just open the doors?"

"No, there are other witches and wizards working here. They charmed it so that magical thieves can't apparate in or out, nor can they break open the doors with magic."

They sat down on the floor in the main entrance hall, leaning against a wall, next to each other.

After a few minutes of silence, Hermione asked, "So, how's life been treating you?"

"Meaning?"

"Oh, you know, are you married, children…" she trailed off.

"No."

"I'm surprised." She said sarcastically.

"Why?" he asked, genuinely curious.

She blushed, thankful that it couldn't be seen in the dark. "Well, because, you know, you're…" she said awkwardly, waving her hand at him.

"I'm what?" he was grinning now.

"You're…er, you're…"

"Incredibly drop dead gorgeous and no girl who sets eyes on me can breathe because of my amazingly hot presence?"

"Oh my God, do you really think so highly of yourself?"

"No, not really." He admitted.

"Good. Because if you did, you'd just be flattering yourself."

"Oh, so that wasn't what you were going to say?"

"No."

"Then what was it?"

"Er, I, go and bother someone else. Has anyone ever told you how annoying you are?" Attack, she knew, was the best form of defense.

"Okay, okay. So what happened to the gay golden trio, anyway? Broke up with your boyfriends?"

"No. Harry's married and Ron and I don't speak anymore after he called me a bitch mudblood."

"Oh." He said.

She found her cheek slightly damp and scrubbed the tear away angrily.

He saw this action. "I'm sorry, Hermione, I didn't mean to probe old wounds."

"No, no, I'm fine. It's just, one minute, they're all 'Oh, Hermione, we need you to help us defeat Voldemort and save the world and live happily ever after!' then the next thing you know, they're married, with children and don't give a damn." She let her hair fall over her face to cover it.

Then he did something very surprising. He gently pushed her hair behind her ear. She froze and stared up at him.

He quickly pulled his hand away. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"No, it's okay." She murmured. She tingled there.

About ten minutes passed. Hermione began to shiver. On the cold floor in mid-winter with the heater switched off, it was hard not to. Wordlessly, Blaise took off his jacket and handed it to her. She 

hesitated for a moment but accepted. "Thank you," she said quietly and wore it. She clutched it and inhaled the scent of vanilla and chocolate deeply. They instinctively moved closer for body heat.

Soon enough, she fell asleep, knees huddled against her chest.

Blaise too, slept, peacefully, despite the chilly environment.

The next morning, they woke up to the sound of the doors being unlocked. They hopped up in relief. Hermione shoved Blaise's jacket back to him and he took it with a grin.

They left the museum after quick apologies and explanations to the manager. They faced each other before turning to part.

"Till we meet again," Blaise said, mock-formally, lifting her hand to kiss it.

"I'll see you around, then," Hermione grinned.

"It's a small world," he agreed.

She waved before turning around to leave, blushing once she was sure he couldn't see.

Of course she would see him again. They were working at the same place!

And, she admitted to herself, she couldn't wait…

**The End(unless I get reviews demanding otherwise)**


	2. Chapter 2

**HAHA! The SEQUEL!!**

Hermione sighed once more. She rolled over on her bed, facing the ceiling. She had to admit it. She missed him. She wanted to see him. But that was not going to happen soon. Because she hadn't seen him for a year! What made her think she was going to see him that very day? He was probably married with children.

She knew that one year was a dramatically short time for someone to be married AND have children, but that irrational part of her had popped up again.

She needed Starbucks. She pulled on her sneakers and went down. No need to hurry.

She entered the café and placed her order. At the last moment, she made it to-go. She decided she could walk around the shops while drinking.

She went out and began her stroll.

--

The next day, Hermione made her way to the museum early in the morning.

She unlocked the doors with the key, which she had on her at all times, and went in. a chilly draught blew in from the slightly ajar doors. She shivered. The museum was lovely, but it was scary when there was no-one else there.

Just then, the door behind her swung open. She felt her breath catch in her throat. She hardly dared to turn around until a familiar voice said "Bet you thought I was a madman with a pickaxe come to kill you."

She felt a flush coming on. She spun around. "I did not!" she cried, mock-indignant.

"How are you, Hermione?"

"Good." She lied. "And you?"

He shrugged. "Okay."

Then, before she knew what she was doing, she was hugging him. He was a bit surprised, and moved back a step or two, but eventually hugged back. "Aww, I missed you, too, 'Mione."

"Where were you? I never saw you in the museum." She demanded, smiling.

"Writing a book."

"Oh." Strange as it was, that had never occurred to her.

She found she could not help but glance at his ring finger. He wasn't married. Thankfully.

Unfortunately, he _was _very observant. "Jusging by the way you have been staring at my right hand for the past thirty seconds, it has become clear to me that you are wondering if I am married., well, I'm not. Why? Did you have something in mind?" he grinned, mischievously.

"NI!" she cried, shocked.

"Okay, okay. Don't get your knickers in a wodge." He snickered.

She blushed profusely and resisted the childish urge to stick her tongue out at him.

"Shall we?" he gestured into the empty museum.

"Of course."

They began a long, intense discussion about King Arthur legends.

They worked with each other for the next few weeks. They exchanged phone numbers, and email addresses and Blaise even took Hermione out for a drink once, as friends, of course, a meeting during which Hermione insisted on paying and sternly informing Blaise that chivalry was dead.

--

One day, Hermione was reading a Reader's Digest article. "CAN MEN AND WOMEN BE _JUST FRIIENDS _FOREVER??" was the title. Hermione wasn't exactly the type to read such articles, but for some reason, she decided to skim through it.

Basically, it said, 'yes, men and women _can_ be friends, but not for ever. A relationship is unavoidable. It is a natural human occurrence.'

Hermione swore once she'd finished reading it. Did that mean anything for her and Blaise? Was she having feelings for him? Maybe… maybe that was why she always felt this ridiculous smile spread across her face when he smiled at her? Or was that why she felt tingly around him? Oh, God, what was happening to her?

Fine. She had just come up with a brilliant plan. She would NOT COMMUNUCATE WITH HIM!! It was so simple, yet BRILLIANT!

--

However, when she went to the museum, she forgot her plan completely. She felt that goofy grin coming. And this time, it was coupled with a blush. He was standing near the entrance, with a huge bouquet of flowers in his hand. His hand was in his hair, and he was rubbing it self-consciously. In his baggy jeans and partially un-tucked shirt, with his sling-bag, he looked adorable! Wait, why was he holding roses? Were they… for her? No, of course not! She thought scornfully. 

Why would they be? It wasn't like it was her birthday or- oh crap it was her birthday.

She went up to him, deciding to act like she didn't know who the flowers were for. She had been completely clueless just seconds ago.

"So," she began casually. "Who are the flowers for?"

"You, actually," he was blushing, and it appeared that his hand had been super-glued to the back of his head. "Happy birthday, Hermione."

Awwwww, he was SO SWEET! She thought.

Then, something caught her eye. Right around the biggest rose was a necklace. With a silver chain, and a star-shaped pendant, it was beautiful. She carefully plucked it out of the bouquet.

"Oh, Blaise, it's gorgeous!" she exclaimed, delighted. "Thank you!" she threw her arms around him and hugged him tight.

Then, she did something she was not supposed to do. She kissed his cheek.

Blaise was thoroughly embarrassed, if the blush on his cheeks was any indication. He was not, however, displeased.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Hermione flopped down on her bed. She noted that she was doing that a lot. She picked up a randomly placed book and opened it. She read and read and read until her eyes were closing. The book fell with a thud on the ground and woke her up. She jumped up, and fell to her bed again, placing a hand to her forehead. She was feeling weird. She glanced at the bouquet of roses Blaise had given her earlier that day and wondered "Could he possibly… like me?"

She thought about the article she had read earlier on and wondered, 'if girls and guys can't be friends forever, then what about me and Ronald, or me and _Harry_? Iw.'

Suddenly, there was a knock on her door. She woke up with a jump and found herself hurriedly trying to neaten her hair and clothes. She sniffed her hair and was pleased to note it smelt of her favourite strawberry-scented shampoo. On the whole, she looked and smelt pretty good. She looked at her surroundings and almost had a fit. It was worse than a pigsty!

There was another knock at the door. The person was apparently getting impatient.

She opened it, with a discreet flick of her wand to tidy up her room, and a (hopeful) smile. Her smile faded when she saw it was not the man she had wanted to see, but instead, Ronald, whom she was naturally very happy to see. Although Ron did not look very happy.

She noticed behind him, Harry, who did not look very happy, but rather upset. He ran a hand through his hair and glanced apologetically at Hermione, unable to meet her gaze for long.

"Hermione!" cried Ron, not in a 'I'm-so-happy-to-see-you-it's-been-so-long' type way, but in a 'how-could-you-betray-me-like-this-you-psychotic-woman?' type way.

He stormed into her house, causing her to involuntarily step aside for him. Harry walked in slowly after.

"Hello, Ronald." She said.

Ron had sat down on the couch and placed a hand on his forehead as though his wife had just admitted that she had been sleeping with his best friend. Oh, right. He wasn't married. So sah sah sucks to him, she thought childishly.

"Hermione, what's this I hear about you seeing that… that… monster!?"

"Errr…"

"I need a coffee." He stated and looked at her expectantly. "No cream, two spoons of sugar."

She stared at him, jaw dropping. "Ronald, I am not you waitress! For God's sake, stop treating me like that!"

He rolled his eyes tiredly.

"You haven't answered my QUESTION." He almost bellowed.

"If you are referring to Blaise-"

"BLAISE! Merlin, Harry, she's calling him 'Blaise'! What next? Honey-bum?"

She covered her mouth to hide giggles and so did Harry.

Trying to stay straight faced, she continued "I have befriended him, but nothing more than that. Besides, that is none of your business and also, how did you even find out about that?"

"Sorry, 'mione, I think Ron's trying to say-"

"No, I _know_ what Ron is trying to say, Harry. And I think it's time you left."

Ron got up all in a rush and Harry just a moment after. They left the house. Ron didn't say goodbye but Harry did utter a quick word of 'bye'.

They opened the door to see Blaise standing there, looking slightly surprised. He didn't say anything, but gave a tiny wave. Ron made an exasperated sound, like a pregnant gibbon. "Now he knows YOUR ADDRESS TOO?" he stormed off, Harry hurrying to keep up with his lengthened strides.

When Hermione came to the door, she covered her face with her hands. "Oh, Merlin." She muttered.

"Hullo, 'mione,"

She lifted one hand from her face and gave a wave.

They stood there for a few moments until Blaise asked "May I?"

"Sure," she said, remembering herself. "Sorry."

They went in.

"So… how much did you hear?"

"Um. Pretty much everything. I think the whole apartment heard pretty much everything."

"Right." She was turning red.

"Those morons think we're going out. I couldn't think of a stupider idea."

"Why? Would it be so bad to be going out with me? I'm charming, handsome, smart, funny, witty, brilliant, amazing-"

"You mean arrogant and pompous, right?" she said, grinning.

"Hmph." He pouted.

Hermione entered the kitchen and started to chop celery for dinner. She couldn't possibly admit that she had been moping around before he had come, could she now? "So why is it you came here, anyway?"

"Can't old friends come to visit each other once in a while?"

"Ah, of course." She smiled.

He leaned against the counter where she was working. "Why don't you just do that with magic?" he inquired.

"I just… I feel more comfortable doing it the muggle way. I don't know why…" she murmured, putting down her knife and looking at him. The curiosity but acceptance in his expression made her want to kiss him even more than usual.

"Oka-a-a-y." he said. There was obviously much more to Hermione than he knew, he thought.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"Need any help?" he asked after a moment.

"No, I'm fine, thanks."

Then, after some chatting, Blaise happened to glance at the clock. "Damn."

"What?"

"I was supposed to go to have dinner with my parents half an hour ago."

"Ouch."

"I have to run, 'mione, sorry!"

"That's okay," she smiled.

"Bye, then,"

"Bye,"

He ran out of the house quickly.

She smiled to herself and turned back to her cooking.

_He is just so cute,_ she thought.

_Merlin, Granger, you've gotten yourself into a fix. _

_Again. _

--

Hermione strolled down on her way to the museum the next day, and, surprise, surprise, bumped into Blaise Zabini.

"Hello, Hermione," he said, smiling.

"Hey Blaise," she said, unable to control the tug at the corners of her mouth, pulling her lips into a smile.

_This is getting ridiculous, _she thought. _How could I be so infatuated with a man I barely _know?_ This is just not like me. Not like me at all._

"I think it's going to rain, he said, looking dubiously at the sky.

"I hope not. I don't have an umbrella or anything," she said.

"I do," he said, pulling out one of those small umbrellas that open up to be pretty big.

Just then, the skies cracked open.

Rain came pouring down on them.

He opened his umbrella and pulled Hermione under it. He wrapped an arm round her shoulder so they could both shelter under the umbrella.

She smelt that warm, vanilla-chocolate Blaise smell again. She felt a smile creeping onto her face as she inhaled deeply for the second time, his unique Blaise smell.

She resisted the urge to put her head against his shoulder.

They entered the museum, and Hermione was sad to see that Blaise removed his arm from around her shoulders.

They saw the museum was empty. It _was _a working day…

Just then, they both received text messages, simultaneously.

_Hey, all, _

_Seeing the horrible rain, I am declaring a holiday from work today! There is also going to be a horrible storm, so bundle up, nice and warm inside your homes!_

It was from the manager. A nice guy, really.

But Hermione and Blaise generally came earlier than everyone else, so the rest must still be at home when they were receiving this. The rain was too heavy to go out it. So, for the second time, Blaise Zabini and Hermione Granger found themselves trapped in the museum.

Together.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

"Not again," said Blaise, grinning.

"I know. How many times can two people get stuck in the museum together?"

"Now what?"

"I have no idea."

They slumped to the ground and leaned against a wall, side by side.

Hermione was shivering because of the rain.

They instinctively huddled together for body heat purposes.

Hermione found herself electrified by his very touch, and was warm once again.

He took off his coat, as it was cold and wet. He was almost dry after that.

She did the same.

They plonked their coats next to them and grinned.

Blaise popped up two mugs of hot chocolate and they sipped while chatting.

A couple of hours passed. It only seemed like a few minutes.

"Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure, Blaise,"

"There's this girl… I like."

"Yes?" she ignored the sound of her heart shattering.

"How can I tell her that I like her?"

"Well, do I know this girl?"

"Ye-e-s," he answered slowly.

She continued "Are you two friends?"

"Yes, good ones actually," he was blushing now.

"What does she look like?"

"She had chocolatey eyes and brown hair, she's very pretty, and smart."

"I see…hmm. Is she very materialistic?"

"Not at all."

"Okay… I think you should just tell her how you feel. Just walk up to her and kiss her. I can't imagine a girl who could resist that." He grinned at this point. Hermione's heart strings twanged. "As long as she isn't a bimbo. I mean, if she is, then you have to get flowers and chocolates and shiny things. But I never really pictured you as the type to fall for a bimbo…"

He smiled. "No, she isn't a bimbo."

She smiled back.

"Thanks for the advice by the way."

"No pro-" but she was cut off when Blaise pressed his lips over hers. He placed his hands on the sides of her face and pulled her a bit closer. Halfway through, she started kissing back, much to his surprise.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and he wrapped his arms around her waist.

He broke off for a second to say, smiling slightly "You know, for a person with such high deductive reasoning, you are rather slow,"

She laughed softly and kissed him again.

--

So they sat there together, chatting softly, sitting much closer to each other than they had been doing before.

For once, Hermione felt happy and complete.

"You know what, 'Mione?"

"What?"

"I think we were meant to get locked in the museum last year."

She smiled. "And you said I was slow."

He ruffled her hair affectionately and kissed her forehead.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you, too," she whispered back.

And for once, things were good.

**The End(for good this time)**


End file.
